A Village Mystery

Chapter 3 - Digging in the Past

Gwen stood at the counter drying her lunch dishes and staring out at her garden. She slipped the plate into the cupboard and hung her tea towel over the oven handle, adjusting the ends to align. This was no good, she admonished herself . . . it was time to take action.

Nothing more had occurred about the unsettling letter but she had an uneasy feeling it wasn't over and the waiting was becoming too stressful. Taking down her long cardigan for the afternoon chill, she slipped it on, picked up her purse and left for town.

Nigel saw the woman enter and speak to his constable at the counter and he went to the door, greeting her pleasantly.

"Mrs. Campbell, what brings you to our police station, is everything alright?"

"Sergeant Marks, may I speak with you . . . privately?"

"Of course, come in, come in. Constable hold any calls please." Nigel led Gwen to a chair by his desk.

"Can I offer you some tea?"

"No thank you, Sergeant−"

"Nigel, please. We are neighbours and friends . . . may I call you Gwen?" She lifted an acceding finger and offered a weak smile. "Okay then, now what can I help you with?"

Thirty minutes later Nigel leaned back in his chair, Gwen's notes and the letter in his hand, with an admiration for the woman's thinking process.

"And you say you received this ten days ago?"

"Yes-- I know I probably should have come right away but I simply didn't know what to do. I didn't want to bother Virgil about it; he's been so nice since-- since that day."

"You came to the right place, I'll probably talk to him anyway, Gwen. So, you've never heard from Henry since he left?"

"Not a word. Henry was never one for looking back; make a decision stick with it right or wrong."

"And had he made some decision the day he left?"

Gwen looked down then up again with a sigh. "At that moment he had. He said he was going to spend a couple of nights in the Rambler's Inn, that he needed some personal space."

"Hmm." Nigel decided not to raise any awkward domestic conversation. "At the time he left was there any sort of inquiry or investigation?"

"I reported him absent but nothing came of it; the investigators at the time said it might just be a mid life crisis and he would show up again one day. Not very encouraging."

Nigel frowned. "No, I expect not . . . Did Henry have any enemies or unusual problems in his life that might have raised suspicion?"

"Nothing I was aware of. He was retired, the office he worked in shut down and we were well enough off . . . he just loved to putter in his vegetable garden and have his evening pint with the village men."

Nigel opened his drawer and took out a new file folder, wrote something on the tab and slipped Gwen's notes and the letter inside. "I'll keep these, Gwen and I'll do some poking around for you. I don't want you worrying about this. It sounds more like an attempt at a possible scam rather than anything you should be too concerned about."

"Oh, dear, why would someone do something like that?"

"Like I said, don't worry yourself and if there is any more contact you come to me right away." He came around the desk and offered his hand, helping Gwen from the chair.

"Thank you, Nigel. I should have known better--"

"Nonsense, go and have a cup of tea with your friends and leave this to me."